Downfall
by Aquaberry Salamander
Summary: In a forever changed world, the heroes of the Sorceress War must find their peace amidst the wreckage left behind. There can never be peace for the sorceress, however, nor her knight. Post-game. Pairings SLxRH, IKxST, ZDxLG. Rated M for language and eventual violence and adult content.
1. Regrets of a Former Forest Owl Princess

**Chapter 1: Regrets of a Former Forest Owl Princess**

**Timber-Balamb Train, SeeD Private Carriage**

**8:20PM, January 14**

_Witch!_

_Murderer!_

_Whore!_

The jeers, taunts, and ugly words from the Galabadians crowding around the entrance to the Caraway mansion echoed in her thoughts long after Deling City was far behind. The anger and fear, the insults and accusations, chased themselves around her weary mind in an endless circle. While her common sense may have told her that the protestors did not know her, Rinoa Heartilly, that they only knew the propaganda and gossip that was spreading like wildfire throughout the country, being personally confronted with their rage was… frightening. Hurtful.

Now, hours later, Rinoa paced back and forth in the SeeD carriage, glad for once to be left alone. She had initially wished that Squall could have been with her to attend the "clear the air" meeting that her father had requested. When she raised the idea with her partner and the Balamb Garden leadership committee, Cid, Quistis, and Xu had strongly objected to Squall's presence with her in Deling, arguing that it would be tantamount to an endorsement from B-Garden in support of father's government. At the time, she had been disappointed, angry at their lack of faith. Now, she found herself agreeing with them. Naively, she had hoped that her father had simply wanted to begin bridging the gap that had grown since the day that Julia Heartilly had been struck down and taken away from them. She laughed bitterly, the sound echoing in the empty carriage. How wrong she had been.

The protesting Galbadians – primarily traumatised civilians – had targeted Rinoa because of her father. General Fury Caraway seized exclusive control of her home nation following the end of the recent Sorceress War, to the outrage of the majority of the Galbadian population. In his usual blunt and direct fashion, he had run roughshod over any attempts to wrest power, moving quickly to establish order in the troubled state. A lifelong president in all but name.

A greedy, scheming, and violent man using the threat of unleashing his daughter, the infamous sorceress, to seize control of Galbadia and install a military dictatorship. Just as corrupt and evil as Vinzer Deling. That was all that they could see. Rinoa, as a sorceress known to have romantic ties to the Commander of the powerful SeeD army, was thought by the public to be little more than a power-hungry whore, sleeping with those who could further her father's agenda and threatening his enemies with her steadily growing sorceress magic.

There was a thread of truth to the belief. Her father had summoned her to Galbadia to formally request her aid in 'peace keeping efforts' by 'raising morale' through several public appearances in Deling City. It was a simple tactic, display the sorceress to the people, with all of the implied threats left unspoken. _I'm his weapon_, Rinoa thought, _no better than a guided missile._

Although Rinoa had refused his request, to his great displeasure, her visit accomplished much the same purpose, providing a visible to sign to the people of her supposed endorsement of the Caraway regime. Exhausted, she ceased pacing. She closed her dark brown eyes and slumped down into the cushioned bench seat against the wall of the carriage, hugging her knees to her chest and curling up into a ball like she used to back when her mother passed away. She listened to the low hum of the train engine, grateful for a moment of privacy before her return to Balamb Garden. She trembled, and two unwilling tears escaped from her eyes, running down her pale cheeks. This wasn't supposed to be. She was no Adel, no Ultimecia, she was just Rinoa. Rinoa Heartilly, the girl who would have done anything to free Timber. The girl who loved a fighter named Seifer, who now loved a warrior named Squall. The girl who fought with her father, who missed her mother, who loved old libraries, who wanted to travel the world, and right wrongs. But that was not what the world's cruel eyes saw when they looked at Rinoa Heartilly.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Thanks for reading! This game is set approximately one year after the conclusion of Final Fantasy VIII, and follows mostly established canon. It's my first foray into the fanfiction world, so please review! Constructive criticism and feedback are hugely appreciated. :)

**Rinoa's Parentage:** _Final Fantasy VIII Ultimania _and the _FFVIII Info Corner _confirm that General Fury Caraway (his first name is never provided in-game) and Julia Heartilly are Rinoa's parents. Julia is cited as dying in a car accident when Rinoa was five years of age.

**Timeline:** The chronology for FFVIII is never specified in game, so I've gone with the assumption that their world works on the standard Gregorian calendar system.


	2. Instructor Quistis Trepe

**Chapter 2: Instructor Trepe**

**Balamb Garden, Quistis Trepe's Office**

**8:25PM, January 14**

Quistis Trepe, former Instructor and current Deputy Commander of Balamb Garden, had always considered herself to be a sensible woman above all else. Logical, calm, and intellectual.

But he had broken through and unwittingly penetrated that self-contained shell of logic and professionalism. Broken it without thought or even the slightest hint of awareness that he had done so, and then just as carelessly broken her heart.

Her heartache had been easier to deal with when they had been fighting for their lives. She had ruthlessly compartmentalised her feelings, focusing only on the satisfying feeling of victory at the end of each battle and the challenge of the next one. Now, the battle was long over, and a routine had been established. Each day at Balamb Garden meant another painful moment discussing mundane projects, student progress, and goals with Squall, or watching the happiness on his face from the sideline as he stole a quiet moment with Rinoa. Maintaining that business-like façade took all she had on some days.

Other people would not have recognised the happiness behind his stoic mask. The slightest softening around his grey-brown eyes, a half-smile quirking at the corners of his lips, or the subtle ways that his hand found Rinoa's, even for the briefest of touches. She, who had watched Squall so closely for so long, realised what those signs meant. Squall Leonhart was in love, and not with her.

She sighed, seated at her meticulously organised desk, and dropped her head into her hands. Bittersweet torture though it was to be so close to him - to be seen as his _sister_, God that word galled - she had her duty. Sheafs of paper peppered with notes and requests, reports, and requisitions beckoned. The paperwork that kept the Garden functioning had to be attended to.

She retrieved the first piece of paper before her. The cafeteria's most recent invoice sat atop her in tray, awaiting approval and filing. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she slid her glasses on and skimmed the sheet of paper. As always, the hot dog order was staggering. She ruefully smiled and as she stamped and initialled the piece of paper, thought of Zell. He had matured remarkably quickly following the War, surprising even her with his calmed temper and restraint. He was still energy embodied, but that restless quality had been tempered and focused. Quistis suspected that his partner, with her shy, sweet, and bookish ways, was the reason. Quistis had never thought in the fifteen years that she had known Zell that he would learn gentleness and restraint.

Quistis put down the invoice, lost in a momentary reverie. Irvine was another that she had never suspected would change after their inauspicious first meeting on that Galbadian train. Oh, he was still the laconic cowboy, cocky to the end. But the lothario had retired. Selphie was the counterbalance to his calm, her whirlwind of enthusiasm generating enough energy to propel them both through life. Irvine had proposed to her six months after they had emerged, outwardly unscathed, from the time compressed world, and Selphie had shrieked so loudly that Quistis had thought her hearing would never recover. Those two had settled into their militarily skewed version of domestic bliss, moving to Trabia six months ago to assist with the reconstruction effort. Quistis still missed them, especially Selphie. She could confide in her in a way that she just couldn't with Rinoa or Xu.

Still, she was glad that Irvine and Selphie had each other. They just fit together in some intangible way that Quistis longed to have for herself. The lack of connection with another person was weighing more heavily upon her each day. She was... lonely.

_Loneliness is no excuse for not finishing this paperwork_, she thought to herself. Placing the cafeteria invoice in the out tray, she picked up the next one, a request for funding by one of the instructors to engage an ecologist to assess the viability of incorporating certain carnivorous plants into the Training Area. Quistis smirked. Now, that would be an interesting challenge for the students... She stamped it, signed it, and placed it in the out tray. Only three dozen more to go...


	3. Personal Growth

**Chapter 3: Personal Growth**

**Balamb Garden, Commander's Quarters**

**9:30PM, January 14  
**

Squall Leonhart frowned. Only nineteen years old, and he already beginning to develop distinct lines from his habitual expression. His father liked to joke that they were just like his laugh lines, only inverted. He and Laguna had a long way to go, but the ice between them was gradually thawing. The catalyst had been when they visited Raine's grave together, united in mourning for the family neither had known. They had returned to the small Winhill cemetery just on four months ago, on Squall's birthday. His mother's death-day. They had placed the white flowers she loved on the grave, and for the first time, Squall had began to ask Laguna questions about the woman he'd never known.

During his time at the orphanage, Edea had always kept the morbidity of the day of his birth from him in a futile effort to encourage the solemn little boy to celebrate his birthday. Squall had only a few vague memories of celebrating his birthday at the old stone building by the sea, mainly of fights with Seifer, who was always jealous of the attention and gifts that Squall was receiving. He had not celebrated it since he joined the Garden, viewing it as a wasteful exercise, and now although he was considerably more comfortable with social events he never would. Not from grief - he had grieved for his lost parents long ago, back at the orphanage - but from a sense of duty and obligation to his father. He could never hurt Laguna by celebrating on the day of Raine's passing.

Laguna was still the same energetic, clumsy, overly emotional optimist that Squall had come to know from Ellone's connection sessions back before the War. It was an awkward beginning, and it had taken a while before Squall had been comfortable even talking to the man.

Laguna wanted a close father-son relationship that Squall honestly doubted he was capable of. However, they spoke every day by phone or by email, saw each other on average once a month, and their discussions grew a little longer and a little more personal each time. Squall doubted that Rinoa would consider having an hour long talk with Laguna about the latest edition of the 'Battle Series' would qualify as emotional growth. But to him, it was, he considered with an internal grin.

He decided to pick up the phone and give his father a call now. Maybe he could help with this... problem. Lifting the handset, he entered Laguna's number. It would be... 1AM in Esthar. Which meant that he would likely be sitting up with Kiros and Ward planning some government thing, reminiscing, or playing poker. Sure enough, after two rings he answered.

"Squall! Great to hear from you! What's up?"

_Great to hear from you? We only talked yesterday..._ "I was hoping for some advice about a problem I've been having. Are you able to talk?"

"Yeah, man, just let me get rid of Kiros and Ward..." Squall heard muffled clicks, and the sounds of 'get out, guys!'

Squall sighed, unsure where exactly to begin. Asking for advice wasn't exactly his forte.

"Just start at the beginning, Squall," Laguna said wryly, correctly interpreting Squall's silence. "What's wrong?"

"It's just... Shit, I don't know. You've seen the protests on the news?"

"Yeah. Bad business. It's always going to be there, though. Sorceresses don't exactly have the best reputation, Edea and Rinoa's notwithstanding."

"It's not just that, it's the public anger behind Caraway's coup."

"He's..." Laguna paused. Squall could easily imagine that he was scratching his head thoughtfully. "He did it for the right reasons - hell, in Esthar I did it too, so I can't be judging - but he's installing a new dictatorship, and he has the backing of a family sorceress."

Squall immediately started to protest. "She isn't a fan of the Galbadian military, if anything she opposes him -"

Laguna cut him off with a weary sigh. "Yeah, you know that and I know that and the handful of people still willing to be friends with her know that. All the public sees is a military government, making a lot of unpopular decisions, led by a rogue general and his daughter the sorceress. Who happens to have close connections to senior leadership of the one of the largest commercial mercenary forces in the modern world. The protests may die down in the future, but it's going to take time."

Squall didn't respond for a moment, before growling in frustration. "...Fuck."

"Fuck is right," Laguna replied pragmatically. "Not much you can do for now. Garden's gotta be impartial... Caraway's going to have to go it alone."

"And Rinoa?"

Laguna sighed again, heavily. "She's got to go it alone too, Squall. You can support her, but being a sorceress... It's a lonely thing."

_She'll never be lonely... I'll be her knight, _Squall thought.

Silence descended between the two men. Laguna was the first to break it. "Just look after yourself. Don't get caught in the crossfire. Rinoa's going to come around soon. I know you guys have been playing house for the last year, trying to keep things normal, but..." He trailed off. "Spending some time in Esthar would be best for both of you. When you get away from the action, you can see a little more clearly. Talk to Odine."

"Odine treats her like a freak!"

"He treats her like a scientist, like a doctor. . And Odine might be able to help her answer some questions."

"I know," Squall replied. "Once she gets back from Deling City I'll talk to her about going away for a couple of weeks. Maybe longer," he added with a disgusted sigh.

"That's my boy."

Squall said his farewells, thinking over again his discussion with Laguna and the violent protests that the media had reported outside the Caraway mansion in Galbadia. Rinoa had sent him a short message, assuring him that she was unharmed and on the Timber-Balamb train to return to the Garden, due in the following morning. After that… _Who knows_, Squall thought. What would come, would come. And they would be ready for it when it did.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Squall's Parentage:** It is never explicitly confirmed in-game, but FFVIII does drop some fairly significant hints that Laguna is Squall's father (the statements made by Kiros and Ward, Ellone's connection sessions between Squall and Laguna, etc.). These can of course be interpreted differently by different people. For the sake of this story, I've gone with the assumption that Laguna and Raine are indeed Squall's parents.

**Squall's Birthday:** According to the Final Fantasy Wiki, Squall's birthday is listed as the 23rd of August.


	4. The Trabia Garden Festival & Restoration

**Chapter 4: The Trabia Garden Festival &amp; Restoration Committee**

**Trabia Garden Training Centre**

**10:00PM, January 14**

"Woohoo! Lock that one down, Irvine!" A cheerful brunette, with large. bright green eyes, eagerly watched a battle unfolding before her, whooping with excitement.

"I'm outta ammo!" A tall, auburn haired man shouted in response. "Knock that bastard down and throw me some shells!"

"On it!"

Selphie Tilmitt bounded down from her vantage point in the frigid Trabia Garden Training Centre, brandishing her weapon with one hand and rummaging in the pocket of her bright yellow parka for some spare shotgun shells with the other as she entered the fray with the snow lion currently menacing her fiancé. Irvine had reversed his shotgun, brandishing it as he would a club to fend off the crazed beast. Unfortunately, that shotgun-come-club needed to be used at close range – too close within range of those slashing claws the monster was slashing towards him. Irvine swung, stepped back, swung again, missing, until –

Selphie whipped her nunchaku - her white and gold crescent wish - through the air, lashing out and smartly striking the beast's short, clawed front leg, driving it back and causing it to roar in pain and anger. Its muscle was too thick and dense to break the limb, but it paused for long enough for her to swing once more. Foam spilled from the monster's mouth, and it drove its rear legs into the ground, readying to charge her. As she swung again, her other hand tossed two shells to Irvine, who swiftly grabbed them from the air. Selphie continued her assault, striking the metal bars sharply against the wounded monster as Irvine reloaded.

At last, he brought the shotgun up, levelling it against the snow lion. "Sefie, now!" he shouted.

Selphie leapt backwards and ducked out of range as he sent the two slugs into the monster's head. Unfortunately, she had retreated too late to avoid her dress, boots, and jacket being spattered with icy mud as the great blue and white beast fell. She shrieked in surprise/

"Sorry, beautiful. Didn't mean to get you caught in the crossfire."

Selphie smirked as she looked down at her ruined clothes. "No worries, Irvy. That makes three bailouts you've needed today!"

"C'mon, that was a technicality! I only ran low on shells keeping it off of you!"

"Nope, that still qualifies. Going to try again and make the score 4-0?"

Irvine tried for a stern look that dissolved into a grin. "Nah. I can think of more, like... fun ways to turn the score to my favour." He winked.

"Oh, really? What might those be?"

He sauntered over to her and leaned in close. _How did he manage to stay all clean? _Selphie thought. "You sure you want to be close to me right now, Irvine?" Selphie giggled. "That last one left me all muddy!"

"Doesn't bother me, sweetheart," he replied with a grin. He closed the distance between them and kissed her, long, and slow, and deeply. "Let's get cleaned up and then I'll show you some ways we can settle the score."

Selphie giggled, grabbed his hand, and they departed for the dorms.

* * *

**T-Garden Staff Dorms**

**7:00AM, January 15  
**

_How did I ever get so lucky? _Selphie wondered, watching Irvine sleep sprawled out on their bed. His face usually held either the seriousness she associated with his sniper mindset; the intent singular focus on the target, or his flirtatious grin. In sleep, he looked relaxed, unguarded, his auburn hair loose over his broad, strong shoulders. He always slept in later than her, claiming that her early morning perkiness was forever a mystery to him.

She was oddly quiet and reflective for once, thinking back on all that had been and gone for the last year. So much had happened… and for the better, in spite of the chaos. The sorceress threat was ended. Esthar was sharing its incredible technology with the world. Vinzer Deling had fallen. And her old friends, her dear old orphanage friends, were all okay. Sure, Rinoa was struggling a bit with how truly powerful she had become. And Quisty, poor thing, was still hung up on Squall, however much she protested. But on the whole, the war had brought good changes rather than bad.

There was only one regret that she had – that she had been too late to stop the missiles from reaching Trabia. _If only I'd been a little quicker, if only we'd made it into the missile base a little sooner… _The graveyard would always be there as a reminder of what had been lost, a silent accusation of her failure, of what could never be recovered.

Still, they had made enormous restoration progress since she and Irvine had returned to Trabia. The quad was fully reconstructed, finally giving the reinstated Trabia Garden Festival Committee an opportunity to throw a party, announce to the world that the T-Garden was back in action, and give everyone some much-deserved R&amp;R. Even the great Sir Laguna was going to come up from Esthar to the official re-opening of the Garden!

Irvine groaned on the bed, slowly waking up. He stretched, and pushed himself up on to the edge of bed. "Mornin', Sefie."

"Good morning, handsome!"

A beep from the intercom interrupted their morning kiss. Selphie grudgingly pressed the button. "What's up?"

"Selphie, Irvine, good morning," the Trabia Garden security guard greeted them. "I was wondering if you could come down to the gate. We have a refugee here, and I'm reluctant to send him in for the usual assistance."

Selphie's curiosity was piqued. "What's the problem?"

The guard paused. He was an older man, a Trabian born and bred, and not prone to being easily alarmed. If he thought something was fishy, it likely was. Turning her head, she saw Irvine already pulling on his long, brown trousers and getting ready to investigate.

"…It's easier to explain when you're here, ma'am. You'll see for yourself."

"Alrighty, we'll be there in a second!"

* * *

**Trabia Garden, Entrance Gate**

**7:30AM, January 15  
**

Irvine had rapidly thrown on some clothes and he and Selphie had all but jogged down to the T-Garden entrance, only taking a couple of moments to retrieve their coats against the bitter, cold breeze coming into from the snowy mountains. The silver haired security stood at the gate, scanning for them, evidently anxious. There was relief in his eyes when he saw them, and he gestured for them to come into the guard hut.

"The fellow is outside. He's pretty beat up, but you know that's not unusual."

It wasn't. The steady stream of refugees from Trabia had tapered off in the last few months, but the occasional vagrant who had lost their home in the bombings found their way to the Garden, looking for a hot meal and a place to stay. Many had stayed, taking positions as construction workers and assistants, working on not only rebuilding the Garden, but rebuilding Trabia village itself.

"What's got you so worked up? Is he armed?" Irvine asked.

"He is, sir, wouldn't give up his weapon, which is why I haven't let him enter for a check in the medical bay. I think he's an ex-soldier. Won't say where he came from. But he has a soldier's weapon – a gunblade – and he's not from Trabia. And if he's not from here…"

"…he's from Galbadia," Irvine finished. "Even so, in this kind of weather, we can't just leave him out there."

A few renegade Galbadian soldiers had attempted to harm the shattered Garden in the earliest months of the reconstruction. As a result, the T-Garden staff and students were a understandably little gun-shy of allowing military personnel free access of the compound.

"But –" Selphie protested.

"No buts, Selphie. If he's not on the up and up, we'll disarm him and make sure he's given someplace secure to stay. But we can't turn him out into the blizzard."

Selphie scowled, but nodded tightly. Irvine winced, knowing that that look meant _discussion_ later on.

The guard took the nod as an assent. "Just wanted clearance from you, ma'am."

"Let's see him first," Irvine countered.

The guard showed them out to the main gate beyond the guard hut. A bedraggled looking man sat on a bench, with dirty, lank, dark-blonde hair hiding his eyes. His face, clothing, and hands were marked with the grit and the filth of a long time travelling. He was tall, with the hollow look of a once-powerful man who had wasted away. A dark steel gunblade, almost black, with a sharply curved blade sat across his lap. The refugee absently stroked the handle, not looking up at them.

Selphie walked over to him, heedless of the dread that was creeping over Irvine. He knew that blade. Knew it intimately, having glimpsed it in close detail through the scope of his sniper rifle as it was wielded during a parade in Deling City a lifetime ago. _Shit, why would he come back?_

Slowly, unwillingly, the refugee soldier raised his eyes to Selphie's. She gasped with recognition. "Seifer?"

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Trabia Garden:** I always figured that Trabia Garden would be close to the town of Trabia, much like Balamb Garden. So, for the sake of this story I've assumed that there was indeed a small town near the T-Garden, which was damaged badly in the bombing by the Galbadian army.


	5. Lilacs Out Of The Dead Land

Thanks for the reviews! :)

* * *

**Chapter 5: Lilacs Out Of the Dead Land**

**Balamb Garden, Commander's Quarters**

**7:30AM, January 16**

Squall sat across from Rinoa, watching her closely. She said nothing, barely acknowledging his presence as she listlessly pushed the uneaten morsels of her breakfast around her plate. She had said very little since her return from Deling City, choosing to spend the majority of her time in the library, silently reading old historical texts regarding sorceress powers and old wars won and lost centuries ago. It wasn't like her to be this quiet. She normally didn't take criticism passively.

_Get angry... _Squall thought.

_Be sad._

_Scream._

_Cry._

_Say something..._

But still she said nothing, dark brown eyes staring dully at the table as he finished his meal in silence. She murmured a half-hearted farewell as Squall departed to the staff office level, not meeting his eye or responding to his kiss on her cheek.

She had barely slept. Both nights since returning to the B-Garden she had trembled violently in her sleep, tossing and turning and muttering in a low, desperate voice unlike her usual one. Mostly she had murmured _no_ over and over again, but the occasional nonsense word was slipped in there. _Maleficarum, _she whispered, over and over again, _schatten_ and _maga_. It was likely it was just babble from her nightmares, but they had the sound of words belonging to other languages, words with meaning. Sinister words, echoing in his own mind long after Rinoa went silent. Squall had embraced her firmly, ruthlessly silencing his own internal disquiet; whispering in her ear that everything was ok, until she was at last drawn out of whatever shadowy nightmares haunted her rest and lay quiescent in his arms.

He had been sorely tempted to simply gather her into his arms and march her to Esthar, much as he had on that endless walk so long ago. Recalling his earlier conversation with Laguna, he instead settled on talking to Quistis to organise things for he and Rinoa to take some shore leave in Esthar.

In spite of the early hour the former Instructor sat behind her desk, as spartan as his own, clear cornflower blue eyes intently focused on her computer screen. Her desk was a reflection of her mind; numerous files and documents, neatly organised into designated stacks awaiting review and filing. Clearly, whatever she was scrutinising on the monitor was not to her taste; she wore an expression of mild revulsion.

Her countenance changed as Squall entered her office. "Good morning, Squall. I trust you slept well. How is Rinoa recovering from her journey?"

"She's not doing great. The riot upset her badly."

"Understandably..." Quistis's mouth twisted with distaste. "I was reviewing the latest footage from the riots yesterday as you walked in. Her appearance at the mansion seems to have inflamed the local populace. Considering his latest speech, it seems likely that he will be imposing martial law to regain control of the city shortly."

"Has Caraway attempted to contract Garden yet?"

"No, and I doubt he will. His antipathy towards you is… well known."

"Doesn't matter. I wouldn't approve providing soldiers to the Galbadian cause, and I know you and Cid wouldn't either."

"Indeed. Still, he seems to be implying quite strongly that he has his daughter's support. I'm guessing that many would believe that he therefore has Garden's support by proxy. It was appalling of Caraway to use her that way."

"And a bad knock to Garden's public image when she returned here," Xu broke in as she followed Squall into the office. "I've requested Cid to consider issuing a formal statement clarifying Garden's position."

_The Garden Code… Section180B…__ Garden must remain neutral in all disputes between states excluding actions as defined in contractual agreements..._

"Section 180B?"

Quistis beamed at him as though he was back in her classroom, answering a particularly obscure question on a pop quiz. "Exactly."

Squall was troubled by the line of reasoning. He agreed with the logic of the B-Garden Code – it had been trained into him too deeply to question it - however in this instance it was not enough of a shield. Garden's neutrality could not protect Rinoa.

Quistis again demonstrated her unsettling knack for guessing his thoughts. "You're concerned for Rinoa?"

"Yes. A formal statement from the Headmaster won't change the fact that Rinoa's presence here is an expression of support for the sorceress." Internally, he winced as he used those latter two words. _The sorceress _was an enemy. Rinoa wasn't an enemy. _The sorceress_ was a symbol for power… power that inspired fear. Rinoa shouldn't be a symbol either, but wishing wouldn't make that so, not by a long shot. "Cid's own credibility is shot considering his marriage to Edea is now public knowledge."

"For crying out loud, she's your girlfriend, Leonhart," Xu replied. "You're proposing we kick her out?" She raised a dark eyebrow questioningly.

Squall met her stare with a neutral expression. "Don't be ridiculous. Maybe… maybe she and I could lay low for a while. Go to Esthar, spend some time with Laguna and Doctor Odine."

Xu and Quistis exchanged a look. There was pity and understanding in that look, and Squall hated it. Quistis stood from her desk chair, and walked around to stand with the two of them.

"Squall," Quistis began, laying her hand on his forearm, her tone low and compassionate and soothing. "It will be ok. Go with Rinoa, and don't be concerned about the Garden. We'll take care of things here."

The Garden would be ok. That much was certain. Still, he couldn't escape that small voice in the back of his mind. The one that reminded him of his pledge to her in the Centran flower field. The promise that he would always be her knight. Against anyone or anything. Against everyone. Everything.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Please let me know your thoughts on this chapter! Where do you think the story is heading? :)

**Chapter Title: **'Lilacs out of the dead land' is a line from TS Eliot's famous poem, The Wasteland. It's a poem that has had a bit of an influence on this fic.

**Sorceress/Witch Inheritance Powers:** According to the Final Fantasy Wikia, sorceresses can utilise telekinesis, teleportation, telepathy, mind control, mental possession, control over the elements, enchanting inanimate objects (e.g. the Iguion statues animated by Edea), projection of kinetic barriers, and the ability to move through solid matter.


	6. The Prodigal Son

Thanks for the review **Lecritic! **:)

* * *

**Chapter 6:The Prodigal Son  
**

**Staff Quarters, Balamb Garden**

**9:00AM, J****anuary 18**_**  
**_

_To: Quistis Trepe_

_From: Selphie Tilmitt (KINNEAS SOON :)))_

_Hey Quisty! Me and Irvine are on our way back to Balamb. You guys are still docked there, right? Figured it was time for a visit (and time for bridesmaid dress shopping!) seeing as things are going pretty awesomely at Trabia. You wouldn't recognise it here anymore! _

_We're bringing a guest with us… will explain more when we get there. Taking the train (woohoo! I love the Ragnarok but I miss that thing heaps) tomorrow morning, we should get in around 16:00 hours. _

_~ Selphie xoxo_

Quistis smiled. Having just sent a sombre Squall and Rinoa on their way to Esthar, this sounded like a perfect way to cheer the cloud that had come over the Garden. Clicking the attachments, she reviewed the photographs that were attached to the message. Trabia Garden looked quite remarkable, all things considered. Selphie had clearly been taking full advantage of the new access to Estharian engineering to improve and build upon the former structure. The technology that was evident in the pictures surpassed even Balamb's design specifications.

Amidst the repaired backdrop, a happy scene beckoned in the snowy T-Garden. Selphie, Irvine, even President Loire of Esthar appeared to be having a wonderful time at the official T-Garden re-opening. Quistis regretted not being able to attend the event, but due to the tensions with Galbadia it was deemed wise to keep the 'steady hands' of B-Garden – herself, Xu, and Nida – running the institute at full capacity. However, Cid and Edea had attended the celebration and there was a particularly touching photograph of Selphie standing in between the Headmaster and their former orphanage carer. Those two people were perhaps the closest thing any of them, with the notable exceptions of Squall and Zell, would ever find to compare with having their biological parents returned to them.

Closing the email, she stood up from the terminal in her room and tidied the minuscule imperfections on the desk surface. Her neatly organised desk, much the room in which it was located, was orderly and sterile. _Like me,_ she thought.

Oh, she had no shortage of admirers and would-be lovers if she had wished it. She had attempted to pursue a normal relationship for a time after the war had ended, taking up with a handsome and scholarly Estharian military leader, but the relationship had fizzled out quietly.

He had blamed her for the coldness that led to the demise of the relationship. She had not disputed the claim, and their liaisons had quietly ceased. Quistis knew that there was only one man who could bring forth that fire within her, only one. And he had just departed for Esthar with the love of his life.

She straightened her uniform and departed to the library. Entering the silent rooms was always soothing to Quistis' mood. The scent of old books, the quiet studies, and sense of purpose… it was a comforting place.

Zell's partner, heart-shaped face and brown eyes serious, stood at the library counter, filing a large stack of old reference books. They were rather handsome, leather-bound volumes, quite valuable and rare if she had to guess. She greeted the demure librarian.

"Hello, Quistis," she responded with a smile. "How are you going?"

"I'm well," she replied, reiterating her fake-it-until-you-make-it mantra internally. "And you?"

"Ok, just a bit concerned about Zell. He's been so stressed lately."

"Understandably. The situation in Galbadia is putting everyone in Garden on edge."

The shy girl lowered her tone confidentially. "I guessed so. It's not just Zell who has been acting weirdly. Rinoa's been spending more time here than usual over the last few weeks. And you know this was always been one of her favourite places to begin with."

"Do you think perhaps she was just seeking a little solitude? I'm sure you've seen the reports."

She bit her lip, then spoke slowly, reluctantly. "It wasn't just that. She is researching, mostly, when she comes down here. Mainly old reference texts," she clarified, gesturing at the stacked books that she had been sorting.

"What type of information was she researching?"

"Things about sorceress-related…" she paused, choosing the next word cautiously, "Afflictions. Which I of course understand – I can't imagine how it would feel, I would want to know everything that I could too. But lately she had been reading more and more around the social impacts of sorceresses, looking at chronicles of the wars that happened two or three hundred years ago. The build-up and issues leading to them, I suppose you could say."

Quistis was thoughtful. That wasn't entirely unexpected – as she had said, it was natural for Rinoa to want to learn more about the history of sorceresses and their powers. But the focus upon warfare was troubling. "Tell me more about the afflictions."

"She was researching quite heavily old texts relating to possession and…" She stumbled through the next word in a rush. "Insanity."

"I see. Could you please direct me to some of the volumes she checked out? Perhaps if I can understand the source of her discomfort, I can offer some support."

In the end, Quistis retrieved five heavy tomes, all centred on sorceress magic. They were so old and seldom looked at as to have been missed in the Garden's digitisation of their library materials. A quick skim of the contents of the largest book told her that it was not going to be easy to winnow out the information that had so plagued Rinoa. Quistis left the quiet girl after that, thanking her for the information and assuring her that it would be treated confidentially.

She could only hope that Rinoa's consultation with Doctor Odine would yield some useful information to help the troubled young sorceress. She resolved to talk with Squall upon his return. Surely, Rinoa had to see that the turmoil in Galbadia was not her doing? Quistis had taken General Caraway for a duplicitous type of revolutionary at first glance – he who had supported Vinzer Deling and raised him, and then turned when he was ready to pluck that ripe piece of fruit for his own once the regime had been established. Following the toppling of Ultimecia, then the restoration of Edea's mind to her once possessed body, it had been inevitable that there would be a _coup d'état_.

Perhaps that was the source of her anxiety – for all of the antipathy between father and daughter, Rinoa was Galbadian herself. Surely it would be tempting to seize power, given the lengths that she had been prepared to undergo to secure Timber's freedom, under the auspices of providing a just and fair government.

The thoughts chased themselves around and around in her mind. She resolved for the interim to focus upon her duties for the day. One step at a time.

* * *

**Staff Quarters  
**

**10:15PM, January 18**

The dull glow of the fluorescent lamps illuminated Quistis' quarters. She sat at her desk, and selected a volume from atop the pile of books sitting ominously at the foot of her bed.

A chapter titled 'Ephemera' been ear-marked, presumably by Rinoa. Quistis began to read…

…_it is inevitable that all must fade. The impermanent nature of existence is that which imbues it with meaning, for only that which can be lost can be valued. This too is true of sorceress power, which in spite of the historically demonstrated tendency of such witches to prolong their lifespans, declines and fades, requiring new blood to invigorate and nourish it. It is perhaps _mono no aware_, the notion that all is truly evanescent, that must be realised within the self. Avoidance of this concept is a common conceit, but when a succession of witches endeavours to fight against that which is fated, it is a grave threat indeed…_

The next volume was entitled 'Hyne's Blessing: A History.

…_truly, one must consider that the argument that containment of Hyne's powers within a select chosen few constitutes an ultimately unfair endowment for a privileged elite. Would it not be better for society as a whole for these attributes – power over the elements and, in the most powerful witches, over time itself – to be more equably distributed within the greater populace? The answer, simply, is no. It is not for mortal man to question the will of Hyne, and there must be a certain puissance of the blood in witches – a quality that the average person does not possess._

_However, with greatness comes a fearful burden. Being a vessel of Hyne's power invariably takes a toll upon the mortal body, with marked changes (commonly hair and eye colour, manifestation of wings, symbols inscribed into the skin – increases to physical stature and strength are also not unheard of) perfecting the vessel into Hyne's image. As the toll bears down upon the body, it must bear down upon the mind also, for the puissance does not shield the mind from decay…_

Quistis continued reading well into the small hours of the morning. When she at last fell into disquieted sleep, she was left with more questions than answers.

* * *

**Balamb Garden Quad **

**9:30AM, January 20**

"So, like, you get it, right Quisty?"

"Run it by me again, Irvine."

"Seifer wants to return to the Garden. Says it's his home, and he's kinda right on that score. Zell will shit, but he'll come around. Squall will shrug and say 'whatever'. And we could use him on the team."

Quistis glared at the lanky sniper in the cowboy hat and brown overcoat. This was the same earnest argument that he and Selphie had presented to her last night, and it held just as little appeal for her in the morning as it had the previous evening. "No, I don't get it," she replied bluntly. "Seifer tried to kill us. On more than one occasion. He earned his banishment and more."

"He was possessed, Quistis, you know that. Even Rin betrayed us when that bitch had her hands on her mind."

Selphie was tripping over to the two of them, holding a tray with steaming coffee and slices of berry cheesecake.

"Mmm, just what I need after that long trip!" She munched on a piece of cake, managing to swallow almost the entire thing whole. Quisis averted her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I just can't see it. Perhaps I'm not as forgiving as the two of you, but… he made his choice. It was not to side with us."

Selphie reached over and laid her hand upon Quistis'. "He's choosing to side with us now. He's… he's been broken, Quistis. He wants to redeem himself. We're the only people who can give it to him."

A small thread of doubt wended through Quistis. _Perhaps he could… No! _She recognised the small voice for what it was – her Instructor's instinct coming to fore. The desire to bring the student back to become the man he should have been.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but how would you propose we reintegrate him into the Garden?"

Irvine looked relieved that she had finally shown something that wasn't flat-out rejection of the idea. "He'd have to re-enrol as a student. Go through his exams and everything. He'd be a perfect student. And you and Squall have the power to send him packing if he doesn't behave."

"That sounds like Seifer's worst nightmare. I'll need to talk it over with Cid and Xu, but… I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, Quistis!" Selphie said brightly. She lowered her tone confidentially. "Don't tell him I said this, but Seifer needs this win pretty bad."

Irvine smoothly passed her a blisteringly hot cup of coffee. She sipped at it pensively. "Let's go and have a discussion with him."

* * *

**Balamb Garden, Second Floor Classroom**

**10:35AM, January 20**

Seifer Almasy, the cocksure, traitorous, would-be knight, stood leaning against the wall of Quistis' former classroom. He looked… changed. There were subtle signs; the darkly golden hair a fraction too long, and a new watchfulness in the jade-green eyes, like a hunted beast aware of the predators surrounding it. Others were more overt; his coat was in tatters, his cheekbones raw and sharply defined, no doubt from malnutrition. The only item that was in excellent condition was his gunblade. Hyperion gleamed, razor-sharp dark metal with a dull sheen in the classroom's glaring light. Fleeting memories of that blade held at Rinoa's neck whilst Adel bore down upon her. _Don't think about that now. _Steeling her nerves, Quistis squared her shoulders and walked confidently into the room.

"Hello, Seifer."

Quicksilver emotions flashed on his face – contempt? relief? anger? – too rapidly for Quistis to determine his mood.

"Instructor," he greeted her.

"It's Deputy Commander, now, actually."

Seifer nodded. Clearly, he had already known of her change in duties at the Garden, and had chosen to open the meeting by greeting her with her former title. Quistis took it as an indication that Seifer wished to return on his terms; this would need to be dealt with firmly.

"Selphie and Irvine have informed me that you wish to return to the Garden."

"Yeah, I do."

"Why? You turned your back on this place over a year ago."

"Because it's the only place that's home." The words were quietly, almost humbly, spoken, utterly unlike the Seifer that Quistis knew. It was then that she realised that Selphie was correct. He was broken.

"If the Headmaster and Commander agreed to permit your return, how would you propose to re-integrate?"

"Train and fight. War is my resume, same as yours, Instructor. I'm good at what I do. And I'd be a strength to this place."

She ignored the jibe. "What of Fujin and Raijin?"

"We went our separate ways a while ago. They're gettin' married. Working out of Galbadia Garden to fix the joint up. They don't need me around."

"I see… and what of Squall and the team? How would you propose to avoid conflict?"

Seifer gave the barest hint of a smirk, a glimmer of the young fighter that once was, and replied, "I wouldn't. There's always gonna be clashes between me and Leonhart. But we'd settle them in the Training Centre."

She folded her arms and stared at him over the rims of her glasses. "I cannot guarantee that the others will be as forgiving. But I will try to negotiate your admission with Squall and the other senior staff. In the meantime, your former dorm quarters are yours once again. I advise you to go there, rest, and prepare yourself for classes. You begin at 0600 hours tomorrow morning."

Seifer did not respond verbally, merely nodded brusquely and swept past her. This was not going to be easy… however; the truth of the matter was, following the war the number of experienced SeeDs has declined. Many had been lost in action, others had formally resigned, the distaste of actual war pushing them away. Seifer was a loose cannon, but as he had so pithily said, war was his resume. If they could mend what had been broken… brutal pragmatism told her that he would be a formidable ally indeed.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

The outline for this story is finally finished! Hope you enjoyed this chapter.

So…. Library girl with a pig tail. Why, Squaresoft, why didn't you give her a canonical name? I haven't found a consistent fanon name, either, unfortunately. Suggestions are wide open!

**Mono No Aware:** Is a Japanese term that is difficult to translate. It refers to the wistfulness and regret that everything is fleeting and ephemeral. It is suggested as a theme of FFVIII according to the Final Fantasy Wiki, and more information is available on Wikipedia.


	7. The Hyacinth Girl

**Chapter 7: The Hyacinth Girl**

**East Estharian Shoreline**

**5:30PM, January 23**

Rinoa wiggled her toes in the deep blue, warm sea water. The water never really grew cold, not here. She and Squall had taken a break from the gruelling rounds with Odine at Laguna's suggestion, and headed for a deserted stretch of beach several hours away from the main city.

Squall, frowning and incongruously barefoot, was walking through the sand to her, holding a bottle of champagne and two glasses. _Oh Squall, _she thought with a giggle. She walked back up to the dry sand where she had put down her beach towel.

The Garden Commander looked horrendously unprepared for a day at the beach. Where Rinoa was dressed for the afternoon warmth in a simple, sky-blue bikini, he still wore his dark trousers and white shirt. At least she had convinced him to leave the leather jacket back in the city.

He sat beside her wordlessly, opened the bottle, and poured her a flute. He poured one for himself, and then raised his glass to her.

"No toast?" she asked teasingly.

"You know I'm no good with this stuff."

"Then let's toast to Squall Leonhart finally going to the beach, even if he did live in Balamb for ten years, always acknowledged to have one of the most beautiful coastlines in the world… in Esthar!"

He responded with one of his rare smiles, and they clinked glasses. Rinoa took a long sip of the bubbly, cool drink, and then placed the flute on the sand. Squall shifted to sit behind her, and pulled her into his embrace. She sighed contently and relaxed against his chest.

"Are you ok, Squall?" she asked. "I mean… you know what I mean."

"I am," he responded simply. "Are you?"

"I… I think so. I'm glad it's just the two of us. No Caraway, no Odine, no Garden, just… peace."

"We're gonna have to go back."

"I know. But for tonight, can't we just pretend?"

He kissed her cheek by way of answer, keeping his reservations to himself. He had hoped that the sessions with Odine would provide some relief from her growing unhappiness. Instead, it turned out that Odine had been hoping to use Rinoa to create a more powerful version of his former sorceress-suppression technology. Rinoa had been furious, accusing Squall of ambushing her. When at last he and Laguna had talked her down, she had been apologetic. _At least she's saying something again._ The anger seemed to have thrown off the peculiar funk she had been in for the last few weeks. The trip to the beach had been his way of making it up to her.

Squall, like so many soldiers, could kill quickly and efficiently when necessary in battle. He had killed, and dealt with his uneasy conscience each day. But his skills and abilities had been honed over time, with his mental discipline and resilience growing in concert with his expertise. He accepted the realities of war and violence, and the responsibility that people like him bore.

In contrast, Rinoa's power had come upon her suddenly and unawares. She had been crumbling when she first came to SeeD, stricken by the horror of the failed Timber coup, and desperate for help. That had only grown worse throughout the war… and when she had taken Adel's and Matron's powers... She needed to find calm… maturity within herself… acceptance of what had happened…

The sun was starting its descent, the sky streaked with crimson, fire, and gold. Rinoa bounced up suddenly and smiled impishly at down him. "C'mon, join me!" She ran lightly to the water's edge, laughing as she splashed in the waves. "We only have an hour before it gets dark!"

He grudgingly stripped off his shirt and trousers. Rinoa, predictably, let out a wolf-whistle. Absurdly, he felt a blush on his cheeks. Keeping an on the location of his weapon in case of fastitocalons or other sea monsters drawing near, he hastened to join her in the water.

They swam a little out, the water warm and welcoming. Rinoa laughed and played, while Squall treaded water and continued to watch for predators. At last she swam over to him, wrapped her arms around him, pressed her body close to his, and kissed him full on the lips. He tasted of salt and the ocean.

"Rinoa…" he began, drawing back. "Please, just give Odine a chance. Tomorrow, ok?"

She looked hurt; she had expected Squall to understand her objection.

She withdrew from him and merely floated for a while, her dark hair fanning out around her face like strands of silk, her eyes closed as the sun's dying rays cast shades of rose and bronze on her face._ That's tomorrow, _she thought, merely nodding once in response. _I have tonight._

* * *

**Sorceress Memorial, Esthar**

**10:45AM, January 24**

_Shit,_ Squall thought, reading his communicator. He sat in the waiting room of Odine's laboratory. His harried assistant was running to and fro as the bizarrely attired scientist barked orders in his thick accent. Rinoa lay on a platform behind a thick panel of glass, patiently enduring Odine's tests after Squall's request last night.

When his communicator beeped with a message from Zell, he felt his head tighten in the beginnings of a stress headache. He frowned.

_From: Zell Dincht_

_To: Squall Leonhart_

_Subject: Bad News_

_Hey man,_

_Just giving you a heads-up, Seifer's back at the Garden. Quistis let him in last night. He's back in the dorms, keeping to himself. He's going to be going through training again, Xu says. Heh, heh, heh. Never thought the day would come when Almasy would be learning combat tech from me. Anyways, just thought you should know before you get here. Selphie and Irvine are back from Trabia too. Tell Rin hi from me._

_Zell_

What could Quistis be thinking? At least Zell would be able to keep Seifer in check until he got back.

Odine's muttering distracted him. The small man paced to and fro, watching the instruments on the panel before him intently.

"Perhaps it is…"

"_Nein,_ that vill not work…"

He looked over at Rinoa. She lay obediently silent on a platform, eyes closed. Under the dim blue light, her skin looked deathly pale. She looked peaceful… still, pallid, and silent. She looked… _Dead._

With a groan of frustration, Odine commanded his assistant to bring Rinoa out again.

Rinoa sighed in relief as the machine brought her back into the observation chamber once more. She sat up and looked expectantly at Odine. He did not respond, muttered some instructions to his assistant and delved deeply into the computer screen.

His assistant gave Squall and Rinoa an apologetic look. "There were some rather unusual readings, Miss Heartilly. You see, your powers appear to have grown… exponentially since we last saw you several months ago."

Rinoa rubbed her forearms, looking chilled. Squall remained outwardly impassive. "I don't _feel_ any different though…"

"Doctor Odine had a theory about that matter. Perhaps you are not conscious of these 'jumps' in your power due to your routine day-to-day use. Would I be correct in assuming you only use your powers in combat?"

"Umm… rarely. I don't like fighting."

"I see. It is a possibility that your body is changing and adapting due to the fact that you received powers from three separate sorceresses - Sorceress Edea, Sorceress Adel, and Sorceress Ultimecia. As you are not exercising those powers, you would only be aware of them through stress on the body, not unlike the process of going through puberty."

"What do you mean?" Squall asked.

Odine cursed loudly in his native language. The assistant turned, alarmed, and then shook his head. "Well, it's not an exact parallel certainly, but in a normal person, the process of puberty changes the physical body and mental processes. Excluding the obvious physical changes to secondary sexual characteristics, there are associated impacts on the body – growing pains, headaches, and of course mood swings – even rage and depression in extreme cases. So whilst you are not directly observing the physical changes - your increased power and abilities - you would perhaps be experiencing extreme impacts associated with the change. While this is a very different type of change, consider, if you will, how you would have felt if you had tripled the stresses - effectively undergoing several changes at once. Have you experienced any such symptoms, Miss Heartilly?"

"No." Rinoa's response was curt.

Squall caught her eye. _What are you thinking?_ _Rin, just be honest with them…_

"I see…" the assistant was clearly dubious, but let the matter lie. "Please, be aware that you may find yourself undergoing some unpleasant symptoms. This is a highly unusual set of circumstances, even within the specialised world of sorceress succession. I am aware after your discussion yesterday that you are not inclined to –"

Rinoa's face set like stone. _"_My answer is _no._ I didn't ask for this, but being a sorceress is... well, it's a part of who I am. And I won't change that for anybody."

Odine spun around from the computer panel, eyebrows raised. "So you say, Sorceress. But if you decide to proceed, you must let me know. I vill be able to improve my research."

Rinoa stood abruptly, ice in her ebony-hued eyes, clearly ready to argue.

Squall interjected. "We're gonna leave it there for now." To Rinoa, he added in a quieter tone,"C'mon, let's go back to the Presidential Palace." Squall felt a growing need to have a talk to Laguna.

As they left the grounds, Squall's communicator rang. He ignored it, and focused upon Rinoa. Her face was set in stone, but the further they drew away from the building, the more it crumbled, until she burst into tears.

"What's - what's _wrong_ with me, Squall? Why couldn't I just be normal? Why did Edea have to give it to me, why not Quistis or Selphie or anyone else, no, it had to be my fucking _life_ that was ruined!"

Squall said nothing, merely drew her into his arms and held her while she cried. His communicator trilled insistently. Again, he hit the ignore button. Looking down at Rinoa, he gently tipped her face up so that her eyes met his.

"It's going to be ok, Rin. We'll get through it together."

She looked back at him solemnly, closing her eyes as he leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

His communicator rang a third time. N_ow isn't a good time to be complaining about whatever Seifer's done..._ he withdrew it from his pocket. Quistis had attempted to contact him several times, with several messages from her, Xu, and Zell, requesting that he contact them urgently.

Rinoa nodded. "Call them back. They wouldn't interrupt your break if it wasn't important."

Grudgingly, he entered Quistis' number. She picked up before it even rang once.

"Squall, you need to return to Garden ASAP."

"What happened?"

"We've received a request for Garden's aid... from the Timber and Dolletian governments. They've officially declared war on Galbadia."

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Sorry for the delay in posting this! My USB with my stories met with an unfortunate accident, and sadly I didn't have any backup copies. It took a bit of time to rewrite my outline and finish this chapter. I can promise that there will not be such a long delay between updates next time!


	8. Dark Tidings

**Chapter 8 - Dark Tidings**

**Quistis' Quarters**

**January 23, 10:30PM**

"C'mon, Quisty, it's just me!" Selphie said teasingly.

"That part of my life is over, Selphie," Quistis replied, too carefully composed to be sincere.

_Damn Selphie!_ When she had come skipping to her room with a bottle of cold strawberry cider, a bucket of popcorn and the recent remake of the old classic movie _The Sorceress' Knight,_ Quistis had not had the heart to say no. They had steadily made their way through the bottle, laughed, caught up on the harmless gossip around the two Gardens, and then sat back to watch the movie. It was the kind of romantic adventure that she supposed most women would enjoy. But then the scene had come on the screen showing the knight pledging his eternal love to the sorceress… and Selphie, giggling and tipsy, turned to her and asked that damned question.

Quistis blushed profusely. She hadn't been expecting _this_. It was supposed to be dead and buried. _Damn Selphie for being so drunk! And damn me…_

She fiddled with her glasses, hedging for time. "Are you sure you don't want to ask another question, Selphie?" she asked in her most authoritative instructor voice.

Selphie giggled, her cheeks flushed from the beverage and excitement. "Oooh, serious Quistis coming out to play? This must be juicy! Nope, sticking to the same question: when did you stop crushing on Squall?"

The lie stuck on her lips. She wouldn't lie about this. She lied every day when she got up in the morning. But she could give herself the luxury of telling the truth just once… here, with a friend… surely?

"I didn't." Her voice was so small that Selphie could barely catch it. "Not that it matters."

"Oh, Quisty…" Selphie responded, immediately contrite. "I'm sorry."

"Never mind," Quistis replied. "As I said, it truly doesn't matter. I… I'm happy…" she trailed off lamely.

Selphie, demonstrating a surprising amount of tact considering her state of inebriation, immediately changed the topic.

By the time they finished the movie, they were both past the point of being pleasantly tipsy and at the point of falling asleep. Selphie, deciding that discretion was the better part of valour, opted to crash on Quistis' couch for the evening. The last thing Quistis remembered before going to sleep was Selphie's mumbled. "'S'ok, Quisty… you're gonna find your Irvy… I promise…"

* * *

**Balamb Garden Bridge**

**January 24, 1:00PM**

After several strong coffees and a rather generous breakfast of fried bacon, eggs, and orange juice, Quistis felt somewhat human after the uncharacteristic imbibing with Selphie the previous evening.

The fortifying breakfast had proved sensible, as it had been a long and stressful day. First, she and Zell had needed to break up a fight between Seifer and several other students, who were out to take some revenge on the fallen would-be sorceress' knight. Unsurprisingly, in spite of his poor condition, Seifer had been more than holding his own, having laid out several students who would be in detention for the rest of their student lives if Quistis had her way. Once that issue had been resolved, Cid had forwarded a missive from his and Edea's Centra retreat, informing the B-Garden's leadership committee that his return would be delayed by several weeks, leaving them without their Commander and their Headmaster.

The real stress came later that afternoon, though. Xu had summoned Quistis to the bridge along with Nida and Zell. A missive had been received from the Dolletian government.

"The Dolletian government has declared war upon the Galbadians, with the support of the independent Timber protectorate. The Dolletians have requested urgent assistance from Garden. It is not explicitly stated, but they are heavily hinting that Garden can name its price. They're desperate," she finished with a grim stare at the tablet.

Zell, frowning thoughtfully, began to pace. _He would have started shadow boxing with excitement, once_, Quistis thought. Now he stalked back and forth, brooding. "What's their justification for the declaration of war?" he asked.

Xu's grimness faded. She looked… uncomfortable. "The reason for the declaration was to prevent the 'imminent Galbadian conquest' – their words, not mine," she added. "They wanted to strike first, and to counter the growing threat of," she paused, "President Caraway."

Zell stopped his pacing abruptly. "No way."

"It makes sense," Quistis replied wearily. "Caraway would have inevitably made an attempt to annex Timber once more. Dollet no doubt has some fairly compelling intelligence; otherwise they would not have chosen to strike first. After that, Dollet and its sea port would the next step to securing the continent. But it begs the question – why engage Garden?" Nida nodded in agreement.

"It's weird…" Zell replied thoughtfully. "They know that Rinoa is Caraway's daughter and her position in Garden. We're not objective against Galbadia. We can't just take 'em on." _Conveniently ignoring the fact that Rinoa has engaged Garden to attack her father's regime in the past, _Quistis thought.

"They have requested a response by 0600 hours tomorrow," Xu said. "Let's call Squall in, and he can make the call as Commander."

* * *

**B-Garden Bridge**

**January 24, 7:30PM**

Squall looked over at the faces around the room. Rinoa had gone to bed upon their return to Garden, pleading tiredness and not wanting to be involved in her father's latest folly, but Xu, Quistis, Zell, and Nida looked at him expectantly. Irvine and Selphie, recently arrived from Trabia, also sat at the table, not officially representing B-Garden but included nonetheless. _I accepted this when I agreed to become the Garden Commander, _he thought resolutely. _But this isn't my decision alone._

"We'll put it to a vote. Entering into a contract with Dolletian government – yes or no?"

Nida spoke first. "I vote no. While we could use the revenue, as Zell said earlier we aren't impartial in this area due to our connection to Caraway. I suggest we state that Garden remains neutral and don't accept a contract from any parties."

Squall nodded. "Xu?"

"I'm going to have to disagree. It would be a clear sign to the world that Garden has no affiliation with the Caraway regime, and also provide a valuable boost to our income. I recommend sending two squadrons of experienced SeeDs – not you or Rinoa – and responding positively."

Quistis looked pensive. "I'm somewhat torn on this matter. Whilst I agree with Xu – it is important for Garden's regrettable media-driven perception of support for the Galbadian dictatorship to be refuted – I find the situation somewhat strange. Dollet and Timber are clearly aware of Rinoa's position at Garden and her recent trip to Deling City. Why would they approach us now? I advise caution. I vote we reject the request for assistance."

"Tch." Zell clicked his tongue. "Those governments have good intelligence networks, they'd know that Rin and Caraway aren't close. Plus Rinoa has a reputation in Timber because of her rebellion with the Forest Owls. I say we take the opportunity and put down Caraway and Galbadia once and for all."

"Zell's right!" Selphie said brightly. "We need to smash this before Caraway becomes another Vinzer Deling. A show of force from Garden would be the best way to get that message out there clearly."

"Lucky last, I guess," Irvine said. "I'm gonna agree – sorry Quisty – but we gotta take care of those guys before it gets out of control. Caraway represents a threat to Garden as well, and as long as that son of a bitch is around, he's going to try and use Rinoa. We need to take him out of power."

Irvine's last words echoed the thought that had been playing on Squall's mind ever since Rinoa returned from Deling. He sighed heavily. "Let's respond in the affirmative. I'll speak to Rinoa and advise her of what we're doing. I know you have reservations, but we need to act before the conflict expands. Quistis, Zell, you two will lead one squadron. No students, SeeDs only. I'll lead the other one – Irvine, if you would be able to join me, you know Deling better than all of us." _We have a battle to plan._


	9. A Fool's Errand

**Chapter 9: A Fool's Errand**

He stared out at the horizon, watching the sun slowly descend as darkness fell. He held in his hand a tumbler filled with several fingers of scotch. He savoured the rich aroma and flavour of the liquor, and the uncharacteristically idle moment.

He liked the darkness; no lamps were lit in the room. It seemed fitting for his black mood. He watched the amber liquid turn to black in the sun's dying rays.

He sat in the chair by the window, watching the deceptively tranquil scene before him, his mind elsewhere.

The assassin descended slowly, silently, from a maintenance panel in the roof. Soft and stealthy were their movements; the man reclining and gathering his thoughts in the last glow of the sunset did not notice or hear. The assassin moved in the room's growing shadows, clothed in black, and withdrew a short, sharp blade.

Creeping over to the man, the assassin suddenly pressed the dagger to the man's exposed and vulnerable throat. The man gasped, beginning to protest, but was swiftly silenced by the dagger slashing open his jugular vein in a single merciless stroke. Blood poured from the wound, the man grasping at his neck in a futile effort to stanch the rushing crimson fluid, attempting to stand, finally stumbling and falling back into his chair. It was over in a matter of seconds. Unseeing eyes reflected the dark sky.

The assassin nodded decisively, and like a swift shadow, departed the room.

* * *

**Commander's Quarters, B-Garden**

**January 25, 10:30AM**

"Squall, I have to go! I can make him stand down, maybe be taken alive instead of –" Rinoa broke off, squeezing her eyes tightly closed.

Squall stood before her, resolute. But Rinoa was equally determined, desperate to stop this from happening. _Mom is dead, _she thought, _but I can save my father_. She understood why he was doing this – it was for her, no matter what he might have said to the gang – but what she didn't understand was why he was leaving her behind. _He's my father_, she thought, _I need to help him._

"Instead of him being executed," Squall finished her sentence heavily, rubbing his forehead. "I know, Rin. But it's too dangerous for you. If the mission fails, he could capture you."

"He wouldn't do that! I know that he needs to be deposed, but he still cares enough for me that he wouldn't hurt me. Please, Squall. Please let me help. I can go with you instead of Irvine. He's officially a part of Trabia anyway, and this is a Balamb contract. Please, just let me help. I can fight. And this is my fight."

Squall mulled over the possibilities, not liking any of the outcomes. _We win, and people assume that Garden is going to use Rin to conquer the world. We lose, and Caraway cages Rinoa to threaten the people._

Rinoa set her mouth stubbornly. "Squall, you know I'm going to go anyway, whether or not you agree."

_Can't you be reasonable, just once, and think with your head instead of your emotions?_ But she never would; Rinoa was all feeling and colour and haste, the counterbalance to his cold logic and emotion. Squall didn't like being backed into a corner like this, but he had no choice. If he was being honest, circumstances notwithstanding, it was a relief to see her animated and caring about something again, even if he was incredibly frustrated with her. _At least she might have shaken off that weird mood for good this time._

"Fine. Just stay close to me."

* * *

**B-Garden, Student Dorms**

**January 25, 6:30PM**

"Fucking morons." Seifer stared morosely at the white, featureless roof of his dorm. He knew something was up, something big, and when everyone in the cafeteria had started talking about the feud between Dollet and Galbadia, things had started making sense. SeeD was engaging in a mission, and his dear Instructor had said an emphatic _no_ to him joining said mission.

There were three things that had hit the hardest about his return to Garden.

The first was the blow to his pride. The pitying faces of his former comrades – pity from his enemies – were harder to stomach than their hatred.

The second was the sting of not being out there, battling in the field, having nothing to challenge but piss-weak grats until Xu and the Headmaster said he was "ready".

But the biggest was seeing Rinoa – _Sorceress_ Rinoa, now – hanging around with Squall. Puberty-boy had taken advantage of Seifer's defection and moved in on her, and now the two of them were living together in his 'Commander's Quarters', with Leonhart treated like some kind of hero and knight. The worst, though, was when Rinoa first locked eyes with him in the library. She had flinched, looked away instantly, and fled. _If she'd just talk to me, I could explain and say I'm sorry…_ he still had nightmares about throwing her to the ground in front of Adel, that sometimes morphed into dreams of when, possessed by Ultimecia in Galbadia Garden, she had knelt over his wounded body and kissed him as she healed him. Those dreams left him shaking and soaked in sweat, and unable to get back to sleep, paranoid that subtle tendrils, reaching fingers, would once again snake into his mind and take control away from him.

_All I want to do is fight._ But they wouldn't let him, and now the golden team was off to battle. Sleep wouldn't come easily tonight. _May as well go to the training centre… or... _he grinned wickedly as a definitely superior idea took hold.

* * *

**Rendezvous Point, 30 Miles West Deling City**

**January 25, 8:00PM**

Quistis did not like this. It felt all too similar to their assassination attempt on Edea a year ago – trained SeeDs attempting to execute the mission, and Rinoa interjecting due to what Zell had so rightly called a family quarrel. Squall's furrowed brow told her that he did not like the situation any better than she. But at least this time, Rinoa would be included in the squad, not an unpredictable rogue element.

She was travelling with Squall in a separate vehicle, with a similarly elite squad of experienced SeeDs. Zell sat across from her, the lines of his body tense with unspent energy, like a cobra coiled and ready to strike. The squad was oddly quiet, not at all convivial like the usual banter between teams heading out on a mission. _They don't like this either._

The driver spoke up. "We're fifteen minutes from the attack site, time for final prep ladies and gentlemen."

Quistis stood. "Everyone, please conduct a final check on your weapons and armour. To confirm the mission parameters: We are to infiltrate the Presidential Palace. The Commander and Squad A will enter from the western entry point, and we will access through the eastern palace grounds. We are to subdue all security forces present in the palace. Dolletian intelligence has confirmed heavily armed forces present on the palace grounds. Clearance to use lethal force is permitted, however we are to avoid making our presence known for as long as possible. Civilians are not anticipated to be at the site, and those present are strictly to be subdued using non-lethal force. Evacuation is to occur at 2200 hours if the mission does not succeed. As per protocol, the order to withdraw takes priority. Does anyone have any last questions?"

Zell adjusted his dragon-hide gloves into place, and grinned, his black phoenix tattoo standing out bright against his skin in the pale light. "Let's rock."

* * *

**Presidential Palace, Deling City**

**January 25, 8:45PM**

Zell wiped the sweat from his brow, and looked at the two unconscious soldiers before him. They had foolishly charged him head on, and with only a few pummelling blows, they had been cleanly laid out. The intel had been right; there was practically a whole goddamn army guarding the palace. Their stealthy approach had lasted for only fifteen minutes before Galbadian squads had busted them. The other SeeDs were battling several standard infantry grunts wearing the distinctive Galbadian blue armour, but Quistis was hemmed in by three elite soldiers. "Quistis, get back!"

She coiled her whip and swiftly retreated several feet, as Zell with a roar charged his fists and leapt into the fray. The energy exploded on impact, tearing away part of the helmet of one of the soldiers, leaving him vulnerable to Quistis's poisonous attack. The soldier opened his mouth, attempting to cast magic, but was too slow as silence took him, quickly followed by darkness. Zell felt a small sting in his side, as one of the other soldiers attempted to shoot him, but the body armour beneath his uniform and the swiftly cast protection spell from Quistis meant that the bullets would only bruise the skin.

He roundhouse kicked the stricken soldier, hearing the telltale snap of bone as he fell to the ground in a heap of red armour. _One down, two to go_. Quistis had gone for the soldier who had shot him, closing in with her whip even as she cast fire. She nimbly dodged his attempts to bludgeon her with the canon mounted on his arm. Her weapon, augmented by magic, was preternaturally snaking around his limbs, pulling him to the ground in a tangle for her to finish. That left Zell with the last soldier, a feral grin visible through the lower half of his helmet.

He returned the grin with a sinister smile of his own. He sought the quiet space inside his mind, where time seemed slower and felt the familiar energy lacing through his body, pooling in his fists, and with one mighty blow he swooped and struck the ground below, the concrete splitting and zig-zagging as it tore apart beneath the soldier's feet. As he stumbled, the soldier cast rapid spells, lightning, fire, then ice, and Zell felt blisters forming where his body armour had split open. Heedless of the magical assault, he charged the Galbadian, and with three merciless blows from his fist had the soldier crumpled in a pile at his feet.

He looked over at Quistis, who was covered in sweat and grime. Her blue eyes widened, looking over Zell's shoulder. He spun around and saw why. Several more enemy squads, built from elite soldiers and green-armoured paratroopers, were pouring over the palace walls. _Oh, shit!_

* * *

**Presidential Palace, Eastern Wing**

**January 25, 9:00PM**

The inside of the presidential palace was eerily quiet. Squall and Rinoa stalked quietly through the interior, hearing the shouts and gunfire of the battle outside. Rinoa had been adamant that her father would not have evacuated to a secure location, and Squall was inclined to agree. Their attack had come so swiftly that there had been no time to evacuate, and if he had attempted anything, Squad B would have intercepted him.

The heavy resistance outside had badly injured two of the SeeDs in Squad A, and Squall had ordered them to retreat, accompanied by the other officer as a guard. That left only him and Rinoa, stealthily creeping to Caraway's sanctuary.

"It's just a little further… Deling always used to use this place too…"

Squall grunted, keeping his gunblade loose in his grip, ready to confront any further soldiers that might emerge.

They continued down the darkened hallway, the glass windows showing the sparkling lights of Deling City outside. "Something's not right, Rinoa," he said. "There should be more guards." _Almost as though they're focusing on keeping the others outside… herding us…_

"Trust me, Squall. We can do this!"

At last they reached the ornate door that led to the presidential office. Testing the handle, Squall found it unlocked. Gesturing to Rinoa to wait, he eased the door open silently, and slipped into the room. Like the rest of the palace, the room was in shadow, with no lights switched on.

Rinoa sidled in behind him. _She was right._ He could see the top of Caraway's silver-and-black head in a wing backed chair facing the cityscape. Readying his gunblade, he silently approached, held the gunblade aloft, and said in a crisp clear voice, "It's over, Caraway. Surrender quietly and no harm will come to you or your people."

There was no response. Rinoa had visibly tensed up, her breath coming in panicky hitches. "Dad?" she asked. _That's the first time I've ever heard her call him that._

Caraway still didn't move. Swiftly moving around the chair, keeping the gunblade pointed at the seated figure, Squall all too quickly understood why.

Caraway sat there; deathly pale face slumped down, his chest stained scarlet with blood. His throat had been opened in a wide slash, his unseeing eyes staring vacantly into his lap.

"Dad?" Rinoa questioned again.

"Rinoa, don't!" It was too late. She hurried around and saw the spectre before her. Her hands were clenched in tight fists, drawn up to mouth, her face a rictus of horror.

"Dad, no!" She half-screamed, half-sobbed and rushed to the body, shaking his hands, trying in vain to wake him.

Squall's intuition didn't like this. "Rinoa," he hissed urgently, "I'm sorry, but we need to leave now."

Rinoa paid no attention to him, futilely hugging her father's body, crying silently. _She's in shock_, he thought, _but we've got to evacuate._

The lights in the room came on swiftly and suddenly, filling the room with glare. Too bright. _Flashbang grenade! _Momentarily blinded, Squall reacted on instinct and dove for cover behind a heavy timber desk, forcibly pulling Rinoa from her father and dragging her down with him. Volleys of shots were blasted into the room, echoing deafeningly in the small space, followed by several harsh voices shouting "Now! Take them out!"

"Squall!" Rinoa shrieked. Blinking his eyes rapidly, he assessed the options. _What the fuck? It's an ambush! _

"Go, go, go!" The assailants were sending reinforcements in, blockading them. Their cover wouldn't hold up for much longer, bullets already punching through the wood and metal. He looked at Rinoa, and then looked pointedly over at the window. _Only one shot at escaping._ Wide-eyed, she nodded. He readied a protective shield spell, and saw her doing the same – hers infinitely more powerful than his – and held up three fingers. _One,_ he counted, _two – _he took a deep breath – _three._

He rolled to side, firing a few rounds from his gunblade as he did, and jumped for the window. Hails of bullets and spells flew towards them, shattering the glass – he hissed in pain as several of them found their mark – only to be knocked through the window as a powerful tornado struck their assailants, sending them flying back through crumbling walls. Rinoa fell backwards from of the window after him, eyes squeezed shut, her arms brandished upwards as she cast spells more rapidly than he had ever seen. Fira, aero, blizzards laced with lightning – each of the elements flew seemingly from her fingertips, destroying the wall of the palace in a riot of colour and destruction.

All too quickly, the ground rushed up to meet them, Squall falling into a dense, thorny tangle of hedges while Rinoa lightly landed on the ground.

"MOVE!" He barked the command at her, stumbling to his feet and seizing her hand, and fled. With his other hand, he held up his communicator. "QUISTIS! ZELL! Retreat! Withdraw immediately, I repeat, withdraw immediately!" Only static greeted him.

Soldiers poured into the garden, bearing Galbadian, Dolletian, and – _what the fuck? –_ Timber uniforms. They ran, heedlessly, through the gardens, a sketchy plan forming in Squall's mind to take refuge in the forested area and evacuate via the grated stream entrance at the base of the palace wall, when Rinoa wrenched her hand from his.

Not looking at him, she raised her hands, wind whistling and kicking up around them. A rumbling of the ground beneath their feet signalled an oncoming quake. Squall squinted his eyes against the rapidly growing tornado, and Rinoa pushed the cyclonic winds towards the stone outer palace walls, tearing down the trembling rock with a mighty crash. Her face was almost terribly beautiful in the moment, both stern and serene in its intense focus, her eyes almost glowing with power – _she's so strong, so much stronger than we ever realised - _

A crazed shout came from around the other side of the palace, and Zell and Quistis, accompanied by the remainder of Squad B, came sprinting around the corner. Rinoa sighed in obvious relief. She tensed, readying another spell, when a wave of exhaustion struck. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she swooned, falling to the ground. Squall bent to pick her up, resting her over his shoulder. "Guys, move!"

The guards and soldiers formed a tight phalanx, steadily advancing on the SeeDs, but Squall wouldn't charge out into the streets until the squad had made it._ C'mon, the shield won't last forever!_

"Cover your eyes!" Quistis called as the group closed in on the couple. She thrust out her hand and cast holy magic, the white-hot glow acting like an improvised flashbang grenade.

Taking advantage of the momentary confusion, the squad burst into the crowded streets. People were panicking, fleeing in all directions. The SeeDs took advantage of the chaos, criss-crossing through the cars and buses clogging the streets, and charged into the parkland connecting the palace to the city proper. Bullets flew after them.

"Where –" _bang! _"are –" _bang!_ "we –" _bang!_ "headed?" Zell shouted over the chaos.

"We can lose them in the sewers!" Quistis called over to them. "Quickly, down into the manhole!" She pried it open and disappeared below the surface in a matter of seconds.

"Pass Rin down to me!" Zell was next down the chute. The car horns and gunfire mixed as the soldiers pursued them through the archway.

Squall dropped Rinoa as gently as he could down to Zell, who swiftly caught her. The remaining SeeDs dove into the manhole, and Squall followed them last, pulling the cover back as he climbed down the ladder.

"They'll figure out where we went before too long, let's move!" Squall ordered. "Give me Rinoa," he added to Zell.

"You're wounded, man, I can carry her."

"I'm ok. She'd want me to carry her."

Rolling his eyes, Zell complied. Squall eased her over his unwounded shoulder, and the SeeDs headed swiftly into the dark, damp labyrinth. Attempts to use their communicators to contact the vehicle failed, with the tonnes of concrete, steel, and earth muffling the signal. Zell growled in frustration.

"It's ok. If we head south, we should come out at the town entrance," Quistis said, panting. Squall nodded.

Now that the immediate danger had passed, Squall became aware of the dull ache in his other shoulder, and wondered if the bullet was still inside or if it had just grazed him. The squad moved quickly and silently through the concrete maze, Quistis unerringly using her communicator as a compass.

At last they reached the ladder that Quistis thought led to the city's gates. _If we can just make it out of here…_ steeling himself, Squall passed Rinoa's resting form back to Zell, and climbed the steel rungs. Reaching the manhole, he pushed the cover aside. Sure enough, the familiar sight of the car rental business' neon sign and the main road leading out of Deling greeted him.

_No military personnel. _One problem down. Some civilians were milling around, and the distant sounds of sirens indicated that the search for the Garden squadron was continuing.

However, to the team's relief, one of Garden's nondescript green and yellow civilian vehicles stood parked in the car rental's yard. A familiar face with a white coat stood next to the vehicle, cocksure grin in place.

"Miss me?" Seifer said.

"Seifer!" Quistis said exasperatedly, too relieved at that moment to care exactly why Seifer had come to their rescue. "Well, I can't say it's a bad thing to see you at the moment."

Squall and Seifer held each other's stare for a moment, both faces tense and assessing. "Almasy," he said heavily, "you and I have some things to discuss. But first we need to evacuate. Is the vehicle ready?"

Seifer raised an eyebrow. "Of course it's ready. Get your asses in and let's leave."

With one last look at the light filled Deling skyline, Squall reluctantly placed Rinoa in the car, and climbed in. _Mission failed._

* * *

**Author's Notes_  
_**

**Zell's Tattoo: **There is no canon basis for the tattoo being related to a phoenix, just my interpretation.


	10. A Heap of Broken Images

**Chapter 10: A Heap of Broken Images  
**

**Presidential Palace, Esthar**

**3:00PM, January 26**

"What the fuck just happened?" Irvine's laconic drawl had sharpened to an angry tone as he asked the question that was on everyone's mind.

"Well," Laguna began, leaning back in his chair pensively, dark brown eyes squinting thoughtfully, "We're not sure. The intelligence guys are gathering as much evidence as they can, but a number of our sources in Timber and Galbadia have been… shut down."

"You mean they've been killed," Selphie said, her normally perky tone subdued.

"Killed or taken captive," Laguna replied heavily. We'll mount some rescue missions… do some reconnaissance when we have some more intel, but for now everything has been thrown into one colossal shitstorm."

_There's more,_ Squall thought, seeing the look of discomfort on his father's face. "Laguna," Squall said, "what are you holding back?"

Laguna sighed, dragged his hand over his face. "There's been some bad news coming through from the channels that are still open. You see…"

They had gathered in the great meeting room chambers at the Estharian presidential palace, the city being deemed the only safe location to dock the Garden at until the truth behind the ambush that had been placed for Garden at Deling could be identified. Rinoa was still sleeping deeply, exhausted, and had been placed on a cushioned divan against the wall. Squall knew it was foolish not to leave her in medical care, probably even seemed crazy to the others, but he couldn't let her out of his sight. She needed to be safe, he reflected, glancing over at her slumbering form. And he was the only person who he could trust to keep her that way right now.

Zell paced back and forth, alternately grumbling and throwing dark glares at the gleaming silver cityscape that was visible through the high windows. Irvine and Selphie had seated themselves at the end of the board table, alongside Kiros and the ever-silent Ward, with Laguna seated – but very fidgety – at the head of the table. Quistis and Xu were not present, having departed on a clandestine mission to Centra to make contact with Cid, whose continued unavailability was causing no small amount of disquiet amongst Garden's staff and students. Quistis was weary, dull, and battle-worn, but had insisted upon going to retrieve the headmaster. Squall himself was seated a little apart from the others, closer to Rinoa. He waited expectantly, impatiently, for Laguna to gather his thoughts. He did not keep the party in suspense for long. "Kiros, can you brief the guys on the blackout?"

The tall, spare man nodded crisply. "Esthar's embassies in Timber, Dollet, and Galbadia have gone dark. Our usual lines of communication are blocked, and went offline at 1900 hours last night, around the time Garden's team would have been prepping for the Caraway mission. Our servers were attacked, and our satellite connection was temporarily severed. By the time service was partially restored, it was 2200 hours, and as you are aware, Balamb Garden was en route to Esthar by that time. Currently, full service is restored, however communications to any states on the western continent are receiving nil response." He steepled his hands thoughtfully. "Trabia has returned an official statement denying awareness of the attack, and Galbadia Garden is to Esthar's knowledge currently docked at Fisherman's Horizon undertaking student training practicals. G-Garden issued a similarly negative response."

Selphie broke in. "Trabia will totally help us out! Irvine and I will head back there and rally the T-Garden!"

"Ah, but first we need to know exactly what it is we are up against."

Silence descended in the chambers, and no one wanted to break it. Kiros' statement had pithily expressed voiced the concerns of each person in the room – no matter what the Estharian intelligence would reveal, the implications were of such an attack were clear. This was not a lone terrorist event or small militia, this indicated something big. Something with considerable power and resources. Something that wanted the B-Garden wiped out, utterly annihilated. The silence stretched for one minute, and then several. Squall watched Rinoa, her chest gently rising and falling. In sleep, she looked peaceful.

A knock sounded at the door, and a harried-looking presidential aide entered the meeting room, breaking the tense quiet. "President Loire sir, my apologies for interrupting, but you need to see this." At Laguna's nod, the aide pushed a concealed button on the chamber's board table, and a television screen came to life on the room's far wall. The screen displayed a stern-looking man in Galbadian military uniform, flanked by an immaculately attired man in a black suit, and a woman in Timber's blue militia uniform. They were standing on the balcony of the presidential mansion in Deling City, and Squall was uncomfortably reminded of Vinzer Deling. The aide adjusted the volume, and the sound of a roaring crowd burst forth. The Galbadian stepped up to the podium, and a hush fell over the crowd.

"My good people…" the unknown man spoke clearly and plainly, a clear thread of anger in his voice. "Citizens of Galbadia, Dollet, Timber, all citizens of the world who value freedom and oppose tyranny, I, Major Biggs, stand before you today with my fellow leaders to inform you that General Fury Caraway, father of the Sorceress and oppressor of the Galbadian people, has been deposed. No longer will you have to live in fear of their evil regime."

Squall's mind raced. _Rinoa's… regime? No. No fucking way. _His head pounded. Meanwhile, Biggs – _that idiot from the satellite tower? –_ continued over the approving thunder of the crowd.

"Once, I was a Galbadian soldier. I followed without question, for the love of my nation. But as time went on, and I saw what the Deling and Caraway regime would do for power, the sorceresses they would ally with, I began to question. I and other soldiers had no choice but to leave, disgusted by what we saw. But as Caraway took power and brought a new sorceress with him, I could stand by no longer. I stand before you today to say – Galbadia stands as one against the sorceress!"

Deafening applause and cheering greeted the last furiously roared statement. Laguna was speaking in low, urgent tones to the aide, Kiros, and Ward, while Zell merely gaped at the screen, stunned. Fury blossomed in Squall. He clenched his jaw as he watched the farce continue before him.

Biggs stood to the side, and the Timber representative took his place at the podium. Laguna clearly recognised the woman, a high-ranking leader of the state, no doubt. She spoke firmly, clearly, no hint of doubt or reservation in her voice or manner. "I stand here today to represent the Independent Territory of Timber. We too have known struggle." _Hell of a way to reference the fact that you're standing next to the military that held the regime against Timber. The regime that we _rescued _you from._ "We have known oppression, and that oppression is now gone. Our peace was hard-won, and we will not lose it again. Timber stands against the sorceress."

Roaring approvals from the crowd followed. _Timber…? Why? After she almost sacrificed everything to help those bastards? _Squall growled, scarcely recognising the sound coming from him. Lastly, the man in the suit – _that's right, that's the Dolletian Prime Minister._ The man was saying words, condemning Rinoa and Caraway, but Squall could not hear them for the angry buzzing filling his mind. He looked over at Rinoa once more, who slept on peacefully, unaware.

"Squall, I –" Selphie began, but Irvine laid a hand on hers and shook his head. They turned again to the screen.

Biggs returned to the podium. "We three great nations are united by a common purpose today. We want security, we want peace, but most of all," here he paused for emphasis, "we want a bright future for our people. Caraway may be gone, but the sorceress remains. We will _not_ stand by as another Edea, another Adel, crushes our nations. The alliance hereby demands that Balamb Garden surrender the Sorceress Rinoa Caraway" – Zell flinched – "within 48 hours. If our demands are not met, we three nations will declare a state of war upon Balamb Garden – and all those who support the sorceress. We urge the great nations to join us in this quest. Surrender the sorceress immediately, and no blood will be shed."

The fools then concluded their address, some words about 'temporary military emergency' and elections to follow, but it was all noise to Squall. The presidential aide discreetly turned the television off. Squall immediately stalked to Rinoa's side. He spoke to no one, knowing that their eyes were on him. He stood tensely at her side, gently stroked her hair, and remained silent, avoiding their eyes. _If they try anything… _

"Squall, calm down," Laguna commanded, correctly interpreting his thoughts with the same irritating ease that Quistis always had. "Rinoa's safe. No one here is going to harm her."

Irvine and Selphie looked shocked at Laguna's insinuation. Zell looked sincerely hurt. "Man, I can't believe this. What are we going to do?" Squall remained silent, and continued to stand protectively by Rinoa.

"First thing's first, we're going to secure our borders. Guys, could you -?"Laguna said. Ward nodded wordlessly, and Kiros followed him from the room with the aide, whose face had turned a rather delicate shade of green as the scene unfolded.

"They're gonna start preparations for defence. Surrendering Rinoa is out of the question, Squall," he added gently. "To be honest, I'm kinda insulted you'd think that of us. Of your comrades," he said, gesturing at the SeeDs gathered. "Just calm down, man."

Squall released the breath he had been holding, and with a wrench of effort moved away from the divan. He seated himself at the table. "Once Headmaster Cid returns, we'll discuss Garden's response to this. In the interim, we'll recall active SeeDs from field duties and remain in Esthar until further notice. Zell, you go and coordinate the SeeD's retreat with Xu. Irvine, Selphie, please follow Kiros and Ward and coordinate Garden's resources with Esthar's defence."

Murmuring assent, the SeeDs followed their orders. At last Squall and Laguna stood alone in the room, Rinoa's unconscious form slumbering beside them. Squall slumped into one of the boardroom chairs, his head his hands. _What are we gonna do? _

Laguna took a seat opposite him. "Calm down, man," he said. "You're not going to do anything but hurt yourself if you don't cool off. You didn't think that something like this could happen back when the protests first started? Hell, back when Rinoa first received her powers?"

"No." The word was abrupt, echoing in the board room chamber. "I didn't anticipate this at all. I thought… shit, I don't know what I thought. Just some fanatics, a few dissidents. Nothing Garden couldn't handle."

Laguna looked as though he was carefully weighing how much to say. "Garden's responsibility isn't to protect Rinoa, Squall."

"The hell it isn't!"

"Squall… Rinoa is their friend. But protecting her is your responsibility. If Garden acts as her private military force, that's just gonna lead to another sorceress war. This situation can still be recovered. But if the Garden's response is to mobilise its forces…" Laguna shook his head.

"They crossed the line when they attempted to assassinate us. The situation has gone beyond recovery."

He stood up abruptly. "It hasn't! You have the power to stop this before there's any more bloodshed! Send envoys to Dollet, Timber, and Galbadia. Make it clear Garden isn't affiliated with Rinoa. Rinoa can make formal non-aggression agreements -"

Squall stood as well, his mouth set in a hard line, and turned his back on Laguna. "We can talk about this later when Cid returns. We're leaving."

"Damn it, just listen to me! If you let your anger make your decisions for you, you're going to lose a lot more than your pride!"

Squall ignored him, and went to the lounge. Kneeling, he gently picked Rinoa up into his arms. He avoided Laguna's stare as he walked silently from the room.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Biggs &amp; Wedge:** These two are indeed in canon as leaving the Galbadian military, but there are no other canon Galbadian military members who could take this role on.


	11. Confrontations

**Chapter 11: Confrontations**

**Presidential Palace, Esthar, Library**

**2:30PM, January 27**

_The library._

When Rinoa had awoken alone in the rather sterile Estharian palace guest room, there had been a characteristically short message from Squall left on her communicator, telling her that he had gone to help Laguna with defence preparations. The events of the last forty-eight hours had left her shaken and sickened. _Dad…_ she thought, with a gasping sob. She had given herself several hours for her first grief. She hated what he had become, but underneath it all there was still the warm, strong father who had sheltered her and her mother from the world until that terrible day.

When at last her initial storm of weeping was under control, she showered and made her way to the palace library. _Maybe here, in Adel's territory, I can find it. _What 'it' was, she did not exactly know. A compulsion, the seed of idea, had grown exponentially in the last few months, the need to find out more about past sorceresses. How they had managed their powers, how they had avoided war… how they had lived a normal life. With enough knowledge, she could overpower it. She knew it.

The helpful assistants at the library had directed her to the historical records in an old, deserted wing of the library chambers, and then discreetly departed to leave her to her readings. She spent several hours winnowing through old, archived documents. Records of Adel's crimes. Her victims. Uprising after uprising. A few of the details of the groups felt achingly familiar to the Forest Owls. _Weird._ She never that she would long for those days.

It was later in the afternoon when she heard some familiar footfalls entering the quiet room. A familiar, unwelcome presence had shown up in the deserted library. _Seifer_, she thought, unable to stop the threads of panic winding through, as watched him stalk into the room. _Why did they let him back in, why?_ She thought furiously. He was (_your knight_) evil. He should have stayed on that dock in Balamb, far away from her and Squall.

He made his way over to her purposefully. Hemmed in by the bookshelves, she could not conveniently melt away like last time. Breathing heavily, she felt the comforting spark of her magic. _If he doesn't get out of my way… I'll… I'll make him._

"Hi."

Such an innocuous, every day greeting, like he wasn't a traitorous bastard who'd left her for dead. She took a deep, steadying breath. "Get out of my way, Seifer."

His eyes flicked edgily from side to side. "Soon. I'm not here to hurt you, Rinoa. Just to talk, quickly, and then I'll leave you in peace forever. Deal?" He held his hands out, palms upwards.

"Let me by!"

"Rinoa… shit. I just want a chance to explain."

"Explain? What is there to explain? You're a traitor and you would have been a murderer if Squall hadn't rescued me! Let me _go._"

His eyes narrowed at Squall's name. "You betrayed me first, _princess_, or don't you remember?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, and if you won't let me know, I don't have to listen." She spun on her heel and faced the wall. "If I were you, I'd leave before Squall finds me."

"Like I give a fuck. You look at me like I'm going to go crazy and run away from me every time you see me around Garden. You screwed me over first, or don't you remember?"

Rinoa shook her head wordlessly, resolutely facing the wall.

Seifer drew closer. "Try and deny it if you want to. Deep down, you know the truth. You left me," he whispered into her ear.

Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn't this. "I…" she paused. "You hurt me," she replied softly, "leaving you… it wasn't intentional. You made me do it."

"It was long before any of the shit I pulled. Don't you remember?" Seifer responded. "It was in the ballroom at Garden. You were wearing that white dress. I'd set you up to see Cid. But before you did, you went to… him," he hissed the last word in a savage undertone.

She shook her head in denial. "It was just a dance, Seifer. Just a dance at a ball, to cheer up a stranger who looked sad. You were the one who left me."

He didn't reply. Silence stretched out between them. _I can't breathe, _Rinoa thought. _Need to get out of here. _Her temper finally broke.

"She would have killed me, you fucking bastard!"

Seifer seized her shoulders and spun her around to face him. His words were raw, ripped from deep inside of him.

"And you killed _me_! I would have followed you anywhere, betrayed everything I'd ever known, and you left me to fucking _die_ in a Galbadian prison shithole!"

"You didn't have to go running to the sorceress!"

"I wasn't running to the sorceress, I was running to you!" He growled. "Or did you forget the reason I broke out and went to Timber?" He paused, and spoke again, in a tone so low that Rinoa barely heard it. "I was running to you."

"I…" Rinoa was silent for a moment, catching her breath.

"Did you forget what happened? Ultimecia…" He shuddered, involuntarily. "Ultimecia took me over in Timber, Rinoa. She fucked me over with her magic, and no one came to help me break out."

Rinoa closed her eyes, remembering. When they had received the news about Seifer, she…

"They said you were dead."

His next words were quiet, almost too low to hear once more. "You knew me well enough to know that some piss-weak Galbadians weren't going to finish me off."

He was too strong, but he was too weak. He had needed her, because she had needed him. The fragmented thoughts chased each other in Rinoa's confused mind. She said nothing, but broke the quiet between them the only way that she could think to at that moment. Leaning forward, she kissed Seifer with everything she had. Every drop of hurt and anger, of grief and lost love and heartache. _I hope he enjoys this,_ she thought, _so he knows what he'll never feel again._

At last, she bit Seifer's lip hard enough to draw blood. He drew back from her then.

His eyes were glistening with… tears? _Now, he cries for me,_ Rinoa thought bitterly. _Not when that monster was crushing me, draining the life from me bit by bit. Not when we defeated him and left him while we saved our lives and cleaned up his mess in that god-forsaken compressed world. _

"Let me go."

He moved aside wordlessly.

She walked slowly from the room. She didn't look back.

* * *

**Salt Plains Tavern, Esthar City**

"Your move, Irvy," Selphie giggled, throwing the shot glass down challengingly.

Irvine cocked an eyebrow, gave her a roguish grin, and threw back his own shot of gysahl. The sweet liquor burned – he had no idea how chocobo could drink it like mother's milk. He motioned the bartender for another round.

The two of them had found themselves in one of Esthar's dives after returning from the gruelling preparations on the Garden. The Garden was armed for defence, and the two of them had been given twelve hours off duty at Quistis' orders. The deputy commander was stern, and Selphie had left with alacrity. She had been unusually flat since the attack on Squall and the gang. Normally, she would have been busting at the seams with her usual sass and fire to chase down the bastards who did this and make them pay.

He'd hoped a few drinks and some banter would distract her from her weird funk, and sure enough after the first joke and shot, she had started to giggle.

The bartender poured them each another glass of the potent green alcohol, and shuffled away to serve a grumbling barfly. Selphie stared pensively at her glass.

"Irvine…" she said, "do you think… do you think what we're doing is right?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…" she hiccupped. _Damn, Sefie, you are a cheap drunk, sweetheart,_ he thought with a grin. "I mean… we're going to war. You know I love Rinoa… we all love Rin… but so many people are gonna get hurt… Squall's not thinking straight…" The words tumbled out, drunk and slurred and brutally candid. Irvine's smile curdled on his face.

"Have a little faith in fearless leader," he replied softly.

"I've been thinking about it ever since that broadcast… Sir Laguna fought against the sorceress!" Her ejaculation didn't attract much attention in the rundown old bar, thankfully.

"That was Adel, this is Rinoa." His pleasant buzz was fading fast.

"How're we any better if we drag Esthar into Garden's fight?"

"I don't know," he replied softly. "I just know we've gotta trust Squall."

"Then again, it's not even Garden's fight really," she mumbled. "Squall… he loves her," she added, looking up at him owlishly. "So do I, but what we're doing… it's wrong. We shouldn't go to war just 'cause people are scared. We should be calming them down. Squall's _wrong_," she stressed, "and no one's gonna stop him."

She downed the shot without waiting for his response.

"You're drunk, Selphie," he cajoled. "And worried. But we'll get through this ok, just like we always have. You won't remember any of this tomorrow."

"I will," she replied stubbornly. "I'm going to give it my best… but it's just wrong."

He didn't say any more. They finished their drinks in silence, before returning to their quarters on the B-Garden. Irvine lay awake long after Selphie's gentle snores started, staring at the ceiling, wondering how the hell they were going to get out of this mess.

* * *

**Balamb Garden, Student Wing**

Seifer lay in his bed in the cadet quarters, for once not stewing on the insult of being stuck in with the students. He kept replaying those moments from the library earlier in the afternoon in his mind, over and over again. He knew he'd fucked up. He knew he was hoping for too much.

But he couldn't help but hope that maybe Rinoa would have given him a chance. Ever since Fujin had told him to stop being a pussy and just go back already, he'd thought Rin would at least hear him out.

She knew, just like him, what it was like to have those creeping tendrils winding through your brain. He couldn't blame it all on Ultimecia – if he hadn't been so fucking weak, then that she couldn't have pulled her magic trick and compelled him so easy.

But it burned like acid that she wouldn't listen.

He knew that kiss for what it was – goodbye.

* * *

**Presidential Palace, Esthar**

Quistis and Zell sat in the Presidential Palace's main offices, now occupied by Laguna. The room that Quistis had previously seen photographs of from the reign of Adel was considerably less ostentatious, reflective of the unpretentious man who now held the office.

Neither of them had returned to their quarters on the Garden, or the guest rooms that Kiros had offered. The main war room in the Estharian palace was the centre of frenetic action, with Squall and Laguna working in tandem to coordinate the Garden's and Esthar's resources for a concerted defence against any attacks. There was no talk of going on the offensive – yet – but she knew from Squall's tense, angry behaviour that he was close to the brink. _The only question is what will push him over that edge._

After Squall had dismissed them for the evening, unable to rest, they convened in one of the smaller meeting rooms. A helpful attendant brought periodic news of the outside world, and the two spent several hours poring over the few materials that Garden and Esthar's intelligence operatives had been able to provide following the blackout veil.

"You think they'll go after Balamb?" Zell asked for fifth time of the evening.

"I cannot say… at a guess, I would say not. Balamb is too small to be a threat, though it has strategic value for naval operations… as I said earlier, I believe that their next target will be Trabia, or perhaps the G-Garden." She wearily rubbed her eyes, and read the most recent message received, which had come in some twenty minutes previously, only partially translated.

_Subject:__#$%!&amp;^%! DECODED G-OP12 Status Report_

_Message:__The rebel forces in Galbadia appear to have a source in government, potentially operating with [*&amp;$%/FALSE] government faction to obfuscate military coup . False intelligence supplied, extent unknown. Repeat: INTELLIGENCE TO DATE UNVERIFIED. My cover has been compromised. Going dark. /END_

Message after message, received through the coded bursts that were being transmitted through the blocking signal attacking Esthar's communications network. All indicating a failure in Esthar's covert operations, and ending on the same line. _Going dark._ Not a superstitious woman by nature, Quistis nevertheless offered a quick wish for the safety of the dozens of spies who had been caught in this web of duplicity, and for the dozens more who had simply gone silent.

Quistis feared she knew what Squall's ultimate response would be. He would protect Rinoa, above Garden, above the officers who followed him, above his own honour. He hadn't wanted the duty of command, but he had assumed the burden of it willingly in the end.

Still, Quistis recollected, when Rinoa had needed him, he had summarily abandoned Garden and his comrades. He had left under cover of darkness, on foot for added concealment, to quite literally carry Rinoa into unknown enemy territory in search of help for her sorceress affliction.

They had followed him, and aided him… but still, she fancied herself something of an expert in reading the man behind the stoic façade. And from her reading, she could not quite shake the feeling that, while he may be commander of Garden, son of the Estharian president, friend, comrade in arms, warrior… all of those faces of Squall would disappear if she was in need.

Several more hours of tense, sparse conversation with Zell, and the two of them retired for the evening. Quistis surprised herself by falling in a deep and dreamless sleep, her exhausted body needing rest at last. As she slipped into the twilight, she could not suppress the creeping feeling of dread for what the next move from their adversaries would be.


End file.
